


Another Thing I Probably Won't Finish

by ashley_ingenious



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, More tags to be added, Original Characters - Freeform, Prophetic Dreams, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:58:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8368057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashley_ingenious/pseuds/ashley_ingenious
Summary: Look, you guys. I DO NOT KNOW.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you can think of a tag I should add let me know. 
> 
> I'm not sleeping my mind is scary place don't get me started.

Marin Morrell had first discovered her prophetic gift when she was seven years old. Her mother had been driving her to school, and traffic was terrible. They saw the lights from police cars and ambulances as they inched forward. Soon, they saw the accident. 

 

Two cars, one silver minivan, another red sedan, flipped over on the side of the highway. A firefighter was pulling a woman from the mini van. 

 

Marin's breathing picked up. "No," she whimpered. "No, no, no." 

 

But it was too late. The hood of the minivan caught fire, spreading quickly. Within minutes, the van had exploded into a fireball. 

 

The woman and the firefighter were both gone. 

 

Just like she'd dreamed it. 

 

Marin threw up all over the backseat of the car. 

 

\--

 

Her mother, being a mage, was quick to teach Marin ways to deal with her visions. She kept a journal, that she often wrote in when she first woke up. She wrote down every dream. She wasn't sure they were all visions, but she wanted to be sure. 

 

It was difficult, having the weight of the future on her mind so often. Her father, who was as human as they come, and doubly kind, had taught her to escape. 

 

She had an electric blue 1967 Pontiac GTO that she drove up to the highest point in Beacon Hills. She knew better to come here at night, when there were other cars parked, and sometimes shaking. No, she'd come in the middle of the day, when it was bright and sunny, and sit on the hood. Most times she brought lunch. 

 

On a clear day, she could see all the way out to the ocean from the spot, and today was such a day. It helped put her life into perspective, looking down on the world from up here. 

 

Everyone was just small specks. Cogs in a machine that just kept moving, no matter what. 

 

There was an arch of colored light in the sky just over the ocean. Marin thought it might be a rainbow, but it angled strangely. The weather was wrong for rainbows, anyway. She watched it as she ate, thinking she might look up what could cause light to arch that way when she got home. Her mother kept a full set of encyclopedias in their library, right along with the magic books. 

 

Just as she was finishing her hamburger, switching to her French Fries, there was a muffled crash. She looked around, but nothing seemed to have changed. She ate a few more friens before she notices that the arch of light had shifted down, reaching the ocean. The water had splashed up, as though something had hit there. It took a long time for it to settle. Marin watched, rapt. 

 

She noticed things slowly. Movement at the beach, people packing up, as the tide dragged back, back, back. They'd never had a tsunami in Beacon Hills before, but she knew the signs. She couldn't move as she watched the wave form higher, and higher, and higher. 

 

People below her would be running for high ground, but all she could do was hope. She was at the highest place in town, and the wave was rising higher. 

 

Her phone was ringing where it sat in the car. She didn't move to answer it, couldn't take her eyes of what was sure to be utter destruction. 

 

The sky was beginning to darken, wind to blow at an alarming rate. 

 

She noticed movement again, this time to her left. She glanced over to see trees rising, growing out of the ground. _The Nemeton,_ she thought. _The Hales_. The trees surrounding the Hale Territory grew, up, up, up. Trunks and branches thickened and twined together to form a wall, something unbreakable, immovable. Their foliage connected at the top, the leaves overlapped each other again and again. A natural roof formed over the tall fortress the trees had made. 

 

The Hale territory was large, the pack diverse and powerful. Marin remembered hoping that everyone inside was safe, before the wave overtook her. 

 

\--

 

Marin sat up sharply in bed. She took stock of herself for a moment,  before vomiting in the wastebasket next to her nightstand. Blearily, she fumbled for the light, and then for her pen and her journal. She jotted down a sentence or two before abandoning it. This wasn't a vision she'd be forgetting anytime soon. 

 

Crawling out of bed, she went into the living room to fetch her phone. She was still woozy and out of sorts. She hit two on the speed dial and waited for the her brother to answer.

 

"Is everything alright?" He said immediately, sounding awake and alert. 

 

"No," Marin croaked. "Alan you have to get here. Something terrible is going to happen." 

 

\--

 

Alan paced in her kitchen as Marin recounted her dream to him. Recounted her own death. 

 

At the end, he stopped and turned to face her. 

 

"Marin," he said, drawing close, "I need you to remember. Did the trees hold?" 

 

She scoffed. "I…I'm going to _die_ , Alan, and that's what you're concerned about?" 

 

"Did. The trees. Hold?" He asked again. 

 

She shook her head. "I don't remember. I wasn't looking that way…I don't even think I saw…" 

 

"The cliff is further back then the territory line. The wave would've hit the territory first. Not you. If it hit you first it wasn't a vision. Just a dream." 

 

"It was not _just a dream_ ," she spat. 

 

Alan nodded immediately, and she understood that he believed her. 

 

"Did the trees hold?" 

 

She tried to remember. She'd been watching the tops of the trees, the leaves overlapping and overlapping. But there, towards the ground, there had been…

 

"Waves," she murmured quietly. 

 

"What?" Alan prodded.

 

"Waves," she said again, louder. Then, "Yes. The trees held." 

 

Alan Deaton nodded once, succinctly, before sweeping out of the kitchen. He grabbed his coat of the back of a chair. 

 

"WHere are you _going?_ " Marin asked, still unsettled by the visuals in her mind. 

 

"I have calls to make." He responded gravely. "There's work to be done." 


	2. Chapter 2

Laura Hale was awoken by a sharp elbow to her ribs, and the rapid vibration of her phone against the nightstand. 

"Answer it, you stupid bitch," her husband Marcus grunted. He rolled over and shoved his head back into his pillow. 

"Huh?" Laura slurred, pulling herself up into a sitting position and blinking out into the room. She'd been so tired lately, falling asleep was hard and staying asleep even harder. Marcus had interrupted a good stretch of blessed, dreamless sleep. 

Yawning, she scrubbed a hand over her face and tried to parse out what it was he'd wanted her to do. She didn't dare ask him again, it'd only make him angry. And she wasn't awake enough to deal with him angry. 

The phone rang again. 

Marcus sat up sharply, snarling at her, gold eyes flashing. "Answer the fucking phone, Laura," he spat around a mouthful of fangs. 

She was careful not to let her eyes flare back at him. It went against all her instincts, but she'd learned it the hard way. Marcus didn't like to be reminded who the Alpha was in this situation. 

"'Lo?" She spoke quietly into the phone. The bed shifted, and she was careful not to look at Marcus as he laid back down. It was better not to make eye contact when he was in a mood like this. 

"You need to come back to Beacon," a male voice told her, "the forest is waking up." 

She stilled, and felt Marcus do the same. It hadn't occurred to her that he'd be listening. He'd never cared much about what she did anyway, as long as she wasn't in his way. 

"Say that again?" She asked, and tuned out all the ambient noise in the room. The whir of the air conditioner faded away, as did the ragged sound of Marcus' breathing, and the car alarm down the street. She focused only on the sounds from the other end of the line. Crickets, cars passing on the road around, and a slow, steady heartbeat. 

"The forest is waking up," the man said again. Boy, maybe? He sounded young. "You need to come _home_ , Alpha." 

His heartbeat didn't waver, though there was an urgency in his voice she couldn't quite figure out. The forest in the Hale territory hadn't answered to anyone since her mother, the Alpha before her, died ten years ago. Talia Hale had been prolific. She was the only Alpha in hundreds of years who'd been able to speak to the Nemeton. The Nemeton was the most powerful tree in a network of trees that covered the nation. They'd had an accord, Talia and the Nemeton. She'd often said that it chose her, and that it spoke to her often, guiding much of her decision making. The Nemeton had been her most trusted advisor. 

The fire that killed Talia Hale had taken out the majority of the forest. The Nemeton, though, still stood, tall and untouched. When the Alpha power surged into Laura, she'd spent days sitting under it's heavy branches. She waited for it to speak to her, but it never did. 

Ten days after the fire, she'd driven out from their hotel to visit the Nemeton again, only to find that the trees had banded together so tightly that there was no way through. The forest had turned against her. 

For six hundred years, the Hales had held territory in Beacon, and control of the most magical entity anyone had ever encountered. Laura lost it in ten days. 

"I…alright." She stuttered on the phone. There was a hum of approval, and then the line disconnected. 

Stunned, she looked down at the time. It was a little after four in the morning, which made it closer to one back in Beacon. The call was…confusing. The forest had seemed alive and well when she'd left it. She hadn't known it was dormant. She knew no one else had been able to take the territory. She could still feel it, a low hum near her heart that told her she was still an Alpha with land to protect. She was still connected to the land it just…wouldn't speak to her. 

"Are you just going to sit there like an idiot all night?" Marcus spat. 

"I figured I'd wait till morning?" She tried, "to discuss it with your mother." 

"So you do. You do plan to sit there like an idiot all night. How am I supposed to sleep with you fidgeting like this?" 

Laura catalogued every part of her body. She'd been twiddling her thumbs where her hands were clasped together in her lap. She stilled them. On an exhale, she tried to let go of the tension in her shoulders. After a long while, she laid back down. Marcus approved of this, she could tell. His breathing evened out in sleep a few moments after. 

She didn't even try to close her eyes. 

Marcus York was the third son of Alpha Amelia York, one of the most prestigious Alphas on the east coast. He was never in line to be Alpha, and Amelia's first and second sons were already married. It was convenient for Amelia to marry him off for political gain.

The Hale Territory was well known and coveted. And, despite her clear disagreement with a magical tree, Laura Hale _was_ it's Alpha. It  _would_  be a gain for Amelia to ally herself with Laura. So she and Marcus were married, and Amelia agreed to protect her, and her younger brother Derek. 

And Derek loved the York pack. His shoulders had sagged with relief when he'd first stepped into the house and seen young wolves roughhousing on the floor. There'd been a mile high plate of sandwiches stacked in the kitchen. The house was warm and full of laughter in a way that reminded him of home. 

Laura was old enough, jaded enough maybe, to see the cracks. She saw the way Amelia favored her oldest son, who would one day be Alpha. Saw the way she often dismissed her husband's opinion. The way she was distant and mildly interested with her grandchildren. 

Lucas, the oldest, was kind, as was his wife. And James had gone to live with his wife's pack somewhere in the midwest. 

Marcus was resentful. Mostly of his mother, but he couldn't take it out on her, so Laura took the brunt of his unhappiness. 

His abuse was rarely physical. Bruises would fade, but Laura had deduced that he was afraid of her. Afraid of what might happen if her instincts took over and she hit him back. She could easily overpower him. Could easily kill him. 

But she wouldn't, because that might upset their place in this pack. Laura couldn't afford that. 

Derek was thriving. He'd enrolled in a new high school soon after they'd arrived. He'd joined the debate team, made new friends. He dated, like kids do, nothing serious. He graduated with honors. Went to college, got a job, and was currently dating a nice human girl named Paige. He was settled and he was _happy_ and Laura wasn't going to let anything fuck that up. 

So if Marcus wanted to call her a bitch and be generally unpleasant, well, he could have a pass. Alphas did what they had to, to protect their packs. 

The sun rose slowly, seeping into the room. Laura waited until she heard other people moving around the house before she slipped out of bed. Marcus didn't stir, his breathing didn't change

She took a long shower, and took extra care with her morning routing. Marcus called her frivolous and self involved, and maybe she was, but Laura liked nice things. They helped her feel good again after nasty run ins with her husband.

She used expensive shower gels, expensive shampoos, bought expensive towels and robes. She had an eight step skin care routine she did every morning. Some anti aging crap that she didn't actually need, it'd be years before she showed signs of age. After her shower, washing her hair, and dressing her face with creams and ointments, she felt like a person again. Sometimes, she even felt like an Alpha. 

She'd never gotten the hang of makeup, but she always thought about it. Women in the city with their high heels and their smoky makeup always seemed so powerful. She was already powerful, she knew, but maybe makeup would make her _feel_ like it more. 

She made her way downstairs slowly, smiling at kids as she passed. They didn't pay her any mind, no one in the house did much, except Derek when he was home. Paige had recently gotten an apartment in the city, so he was there more often than not. She was waiting for him to approach her about moving. Decisions about Derek's movement still went through her, not Amelia. That had been part of the deal. 

Laura meandered downstairs, past guest bedrooms and bathrooms, to a set of dark wood double doors near the back of the house. 

"Come in," a voice beckoned, and she pushed open the doors, closing them quietly behind her. 

The study was Amelia's sanctuary, Laura and Lucas were the only ones allowed inside. Reserved for Alpha's, she'd said, the first time she'd asked Laura to join her after dinner. Marcus had been impossible to deal with for the rest of the night. 

"Laura," Amelia said warmly, a cool smile on her face. Laura made sure to smile back. 

It had been clear, from the beginning, that Amelia didn't like Laura much. She found Laura disappointing in the shadow of her mother and, frankly, Laura agreed. No, Amelia York liked power, and Laura, while disappointing, still had quite a bit of it. The Hale named carried weight all over the country. The York pack had benefitted greatly by being allied with the remaining Hales. They would benefit even more if Laura's territory were restored to her. 

"I got a call," Laura said with no preamble, sliding into an armchair in front of Amelia's work desk. "A contact in Beacon who believes the forest is waking up, that the Nemeton is active again. I've been asked to return." 

Amelia nodded slowly. "Of course. That's…that's rather wonderful, Laura," the older Alpha smiled. "To have access to the Hale Territory," she sighed…

Laura didn't acknowledge the slip, just waited for Amelia to catch it herself. 

Amelia noticed quickly. "To have a Hale!" She corrected, "to have a Hale in the Hale territory again would be absolutely wonderful. Everything we've dreamed of, come to fruition, don't you think?" 

Laura nodded. "Yes. I just came to make sure that Derek would be alright while I was gone." 

Amelia clapped. "Of course! Of course. Derek is an independent young man, I'm sure he'll be fine. But should he need for anything, we'll make sure he's cared for. When did you plan on leaving?" 

"Tonight, I think. The call sounded urgent." 

Amelia nodded, pleased. 

"You'll need to pack then!" She said, a clear dismissal. Laura nodded and let herself out. 

Marcus was awake and in the kitchen when she passed through it again. 

"You're still here?" He sneered. They were alone. He never spoke to her like this when there were people around. He mostly didn't speak to her at all. 

"I'm just going up to pack, then tell Derek I'm leaving." 

Marcus grunted in response, and Laura moved up the stairs slowly. 

She was tired again. It was barely eight, but her bones felt weary. Maybe the trip, being away for a little while, would do her good. 

She stepped into her walk in closet and sighed. 

She sat on the floor and dug into her suitcase. 

The day they'd left Beacon, Marin Morrell, one of her mother's advisors, had sought her out. She'd handed her a large green candle. 

"Sometimes privacy and protection are the same thing," she'd said.

Laura had lit the candle her second night in the York home, the first time Marcus had hit her, in this same closet. 

The thing smelled horrible at first, but it balanced out after a while. She'd discovered that while she could still hear and smell everything outside the closet, Marcus didn't she was there. He couldn't hear her or smell her or sense her in any way. 

She'd used it often to hide, since then, and she felt an urge to light it today. Privacy and protection were things she needed today. 

She set the candle on the jewelry stand in the middle of the room, and quietly began to pack. 

Unsure how long she'd be there, she decided on enough clothes for a week. Jeans, tshirts, her good walking boots, and her comfiest pajamas. 

Absently, she sent Derek a text. _Could you stop by at your lunch break? We need to talk?_

_Sure_ , he responded quickly.

She was almost done with her packing when she heard Marcus stomp back into the room with his mother. 

"You heard the call, then?" Amelia asked impatiently. 

"Yes. He said the forest was awake." 

"Do we know who he is?" 

"No. She seemed to know, she didn't ask him, at least." 

"This is excellent. She'll reclaim the territory, it will make sense that you move there, to be with your wife. Then maybe a year in? You kill her. It'll look like an accident of course, and then you'll be Alpha. A York will be Alpha of the Hale Territory." 

"What about the tree?" 

"Who cares about the tree? The tree doesn't like Laura either. It doesn't matter if we're actually in the territory. We gain power just by holding it. Our status has elevated just by associating with the girl who holds that territory. She hasn't set foot there in ten years!" 

"What about Derek?" 

"Derek's a good boy, he's never caused us any trouble. He's a beta, a human lover, he wants no power. He's perfect. We'll have a York Alpha, the Hale territory, and the last living Hale, happy and well adjusted in our pack. He'll grieve of course, as expected. but then he'll move back here, marry his little human girl and leave us all the hell alone I'd expect." 

"You think it'll go that smoothly?"

"My dear boy, it's been going that smoothly for ten years. I can't imagine why it would stop now." 

Laura was frozen, staring at the door. 

She'd known they didn't like her. And that Marcus would try to kill her…wasn't surprising. But that he would do so with the permission, the _urging_ , of his Alpha? 

She walked backwards, stumbling and falling against the back wall of the closet. They couldn't hear her, she told herself, looking at the flame on the candle. She was safe. Private and protected. 

She reached for her phone and made a phone call she never thought she'd need to make. 

\--

Derek sauntered into the York house at ten past twelve. He found Laura puttering around in the kitchen, packing snacks for her flight. 

"What's up?" He asked, sliding onto a bar stool at the kitchen island. She looked at him. 

Her little brother had grown up nicely. He had their father's eyes, their mother's smile, the Hale dark hair. He'd grown into his shoulders, into his hands. Not quite into his teeth, yet, but women never seemed to mind. He was twenty five, college educated, employed, he was quiet, and confident. Every time Laura looked at him she imagined how proud their parents would be. Derek was her pride and joy. 

"Don't get your hopes up," she said with a smile, "But there's been news from Beacon. I'm going to head back, just for a few days, see if the trees will let me in." 

Derek blinked. "You think they will?" 

Laura shrugged. "I think someone called and told me I needed to come back, so that's what I'm going to do. It's our territory, Der. If it needs something, I'm gonna do my best to make it happen." 

Her little brother nodded. "We could have a territory again," he said quietly, voice tinged with awe. 

She tilted her head, eyeing him. "You want that? You've always seemed so comfortable here." 

Derek chuckled. "I love it here. I love my job, I love Paige. The Yorks are cool, but…it's _home_ , Lo. We could have our home back." 

She sighed. "Don't get your hopes up. I don't know…it might not work. That damn tree might still hate me." 

Derek moved around the island and put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey. You know you're great, right? You're a fantastic Alpha and a fantastic big sister," he said, smiling. "THat damn tree's not gonna know what hit it." 

She leaned in to hug him, flooded by the warm sweet feel of pack that overcame her when he wrapped his arms around her. 

"When're you leaving?" He muttered into her hair. 

"Tonight. I'll call you when I land, and if I find anything out." 

He nodded, stepping back. 

"Be safe," he told her. She smiled. 

"Always, little brother." 

\--

 

The air in Beacon felt good to breathe. Better than the city air. Calmer. She felt at home. 

She took a cab from an airport and checked into her hotel. She expected to be tired, jetlagged from the flight. She expected whoever'd called her to materialize out of the shadows and make demands. But not of that happened. She sat on her bed in her hotel and decided that seeing it tonight was just as good as seeing it in the morning, if not better. 

She walked out to the Preserve, about two miles from the Hale Territory marker. It was a leisurely stroll through the woods, marked paths, nothing dangerous. She hummed to herself as she walked. It was a little song that her mother had taught her. Something about greeting the trees by name, acknowledging the souls of the forest. The night felt easy, her body felt loose and relaxed in a way that it hadn't in a while. In years, probably. 

She saw the territory line clearly. The Preserve had bounced back from the fire, naturally. New trees grew from the ash, bushes and weeds sprouting up all over. It looked like a healthy forest should. The Hale territory was still dead. The ground still looked gray from ash, the remaining trees black and twisted from the fire. 

Laura had seen these same dead trees grow and twist to block her entrance. Tonight they didn't. 

As she stepped closer, she saw small shoots of green on the ground, coming from some of the trees. The forest was coming back to life, waking up around her. 

No one knew where the Nemeton was, exactly. Not even her mother had known. If she'd gone for a walk with the intent to find it, she always had. She could never remember her steps once she'd gotten there. 

Laura'd had the same experience. In the days after the fire, when she'd visited the Nemeton, her feet had always carried her there all on their own.  

Tonight was no difference. She thought of the Nemeton and let her feet take her, and she wasn't surprised when she found it. It was a tall, thick tree, that appeared to be a California Redwood, but…not. Tonight, there were flowers growing in it's foliage, pink and vibrant, like cherry blossoms. THe held tight to the branches, not falling. 

Laura sat in front of the tree, pressed her palm to the bark. 

Her mother had always described the tree as warm, but it was cold under Laura's hand. 

"We're still not friends, are we?" She said into the silence. 

Nothing. No feeling, no sense, no voice in her head. Nothing. 

"Can I…" she sighed, "I feel ridiculous. You let me in, right? Do I…at least have your permission to come home? To rebuild my pack here? I want to…I want to honor you. I want to do this the right way, I just don't know how." 

The bark warmed beneath her palm. Her eyes snapped up, looking at the tree. She laughed, like it was pulled out of her. Wild. 

Then something cold took hold of her. Fear, sharp and primal, but foreign. Not her own fear. The Nemeton was afraid. The Nemeton was telling her to be afraid? She wasn't sure. 

She turned out into the forest, her back to the tree, but she saw nothing. The land here was still mostly barren, there wasn't much room to hide. 

Tuning in, she heard a faint heartbeat, strangely familiar. 

"I can hear you," she called out into the night. "You might as well show yourself." 

A man stepped out of the trees. He was too far away to make out, but tall. He walked at a leisurely pace, not hurrying. The Nemeton kept pumping fear into her. 

"Who are you?" She asked, but the man didn't answer, just moved closer toward her. 

His features became visible a little at a time. Dark hair, a goatee, and finally, blue, blue eyes. 

She choked. 

"Peter?" She asked. The man nodded. He held a knife in his hand, jagged, like it had been made by an amateur. 

"You're dead. You…you died in the fire." 

He shook his head, nodded to the tree. "The Nemeton? It…kept you alive?" 

He nodded again. 

"It saved you," she said, awed. 

Peter barked a laugh. There was no joy in it, and it sounded, stilted. Like it wasn't quite right in his mouth. He shook his head. 

"It didn't…can you talk?" 

Another head shake. He took a step closer, knife clenched tight in his fist. 

"Peter…" she said slowly. 

He was fast. He shouldn't have been faster than her, but she wasn't expecting it. He had her by her hair, pulled her down to her knees. He rammed her head into the trunk of the tree and held it there. 

She gasped, and saw the future. 

She would fight Peter. She would win. She would kill one of her last remaining family members. The Nemeton would allow her to move back here. Her traitorous husband on her arm. They would rebuilt, expand their pack. She would plan to divorce him, but then she'd get pregnant. Then she'd get pregnant again. And then, one night, Marcus would kill her in her sleep. The York pack would take the territory, but the Nemeton would never speak to them. They would be plagued by war. Packs with mages who thought they could manipulate the tree would descend.  Her betas would die. Her children would die, her brother would die. And then, when there seemed to be nothing left…the unthinkable. 

"It can't be me," she gasped out, voice wet. There were tears she hadn't noticed streaming down her face. 

Peter pressed the knife to her throat, and she nodded. She understood. She was so tired. What did she have to go back to? Her abusive husband? Her traitorous mother in law? Her oblivious family? Derek had built a life, a good life that had nothing to do with her. And the Yorks had no intention of hurting him, they'd said as much. And if she died this way, Peter would be the Alpha. Peter, who the Nemeton had protected all this time, even if she didn't know why. 

He held the knife to her throat, waiting. 

"Do it," she coughed out. "Do it, Peter, it's okay." 

He made a sound like a sob, and pressed his face to her shoulder. She felt the tears soak through the back of her sweater, and she whined a little, low in her throat. 

"Sshh," she said, "it's alright. The Nemeton needs it to be this way. It's alright. I forgive you, Peter. It's okay." 

She only felt the bite of the knife for a moment, before it was all over. 

**Author's Note:**

> There's more I promise but idk when and idk how much. One of you should have some faith in me because I don't have any. Seriously.


End file.
